


I'm Fine

by everythingsace



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, also you could read this as all platonic, it's just l o v e, literally insert any tony tag, literally whatever the fuck you want, my smol bean, or poly avengers, or science boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8492683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingsace/pseuds/everythingsace
Summary: “Sir, you need to sleep. You’ve been working nonstop for the past twenty-one hours. You haven’t interacted with anybody for twenty-eight hours. You can not exhaust yourself. I ask you to sleep, sir.”“Ah, see, Jarv, sleep is for the weak,” Tony supplied, sighing as he tore the tape and tossed the roll aside, stretching his fingers and trying to dismiss the concerns of his AI.“No, sleep is for the healthy, sir,” the AI amended.





	

No one except JARVIS was really aware of Tony’s gym routine. A few times a week, if Tony wasn’t tinkering around in his workshop, he headed down to the gym some time after midnight. Sometimes one, two, three, or even four o’clock in the morning.

There was no denying that Tony was in good shape- well, physique-wise- but the other team members never thought about it, or at least they didn’t seem to. All they knew was that sometimes Steve’s tape roll had less tape on it than it did the day before and sometimes some targets were missing and sometimes there was a mat left on the floor. They had to have known it was Tony, but they hadn’t bothered to ask why he didn't just train with them.

Now, after finally fixing an upgrade for his suit, Tony was wrapping his knuckles as JARVIS was trying to tell him off.

“Sir, it’s four-forty-five. You haven’t slept in fifty-six hours. I strongly advise you go to sleep.”

“JARVIS, I’m _fine._ Really. Chill out. Could you start my workout playlist?”

“Sir, you need to sleep. You’ve been working nonstop for the past twenty-one hours. You haven’t interacted with anybody for twenty-eight hours. You can not exhaust yourself. I ask you to sleep, sir.”

“Ah, see, Jarv, sleep is for the weak,” Tony supplied, sighing as he tore the tape and tossed the roll aside, stretching his fingers and trying to dismiss the concerns of his AI.

“No, sleep is for the _healthy,_ sir,” the AI amended.

“And we know that word has never described me, so we’re on the same page,” Tony said quickly, huffing and hoping that JARVIS would just _drop it._ “ _Please_ start the playlist.”

Luckily, the AI did just that, but not after a pause that he could probably interpret as a sigh. “Very well,” the AI said, sounding resigned before beginning the music.

Tony smiled gratefully and quickly was at work.

He pounded the punching bag at a consistent pace for a good while. His fists grew sore and his arms were definitely growing tired, but he refused to give up or even lighten up in the slightest. If he wanted to be at the top of his game, he couldn’t let himself lighten up until absolutely necessary. Besides, it’s not like he’d have anything to do once he gave up anyway.

JARVIS would suggest sleeping, despite knowing about Tony’s ridiculous insomnia. JARVIS did what he could, which unfortunately wasn’t much, considering Tony’s strict restrictions in what JARVIS could do to alert the others of emergencies. His own mental health emergencies didn’t exist in his own mind. Only his friends’ did.

So yes, it _had_ been fifty-six hours since he last slept. Well, fifty-seven by this point, probably, but yes. But that really wasn’t too bad. Tony wasn’t even tired yet, though, so _there._ That’s what a coffee addiction did to a person. Speaking of which, he’d probably need another cup in about half an hour. For now, he would just keep punching.

A few punches, and okay, maybe he was sort of tired. But he just shook his head and  continued to bounce on the balls of his feet, slamming his fists into the punching bag. Some days he felt like dropping to the floor he was so tired, and he _still_ couldn’t sleep. A yawn here or there hardly meant anything.

Plus, last time he _did_ sleep, it wasn’t all too pleasant. Having nightmares about having your heart ripped out of your chest, of being drowned and tortured, of falling, falling, _falling-_

“Sir, your hands are bleeding,” JARVIS spoke, interrupting whatever song Tony had stopped paying attention to. Said genius blinked and looked down at his hands, and sure enough, his knuckles had split even beneath the tape and there were small patches of red peeking through.

“Aw, shit,” Tony quietly muttered. He sighed and walked away from the punching bag, instead sitting on the bench. Very carefully, he slowly peeled away the tape around his hands. He set that aside and gently shook both of them out. He peered closely at them, then cursed quietly. “JARVIS, could you give me some better lighting?”

The lights in the room quickly grew brighter and Tony was able to get a clearer look. The splitting wasn’t too bad, but his knuckles would definitely be bruised for a little while. He’d just have to be patient and wait for them to heal themselves.

Tony glanced around the gym. Seeing as he couldn’t really continue with the bag, he glanced at the treadmills. He could always work on his stamina. While his suit was incredibly impressive and strong, there were no hundred-percent guarantees. He began walking towards one of the treadmills, but he was interrupted by JARVIS.

“Sir, I insist you take care of your hands.”

“I can do that la-”

“ _Now,_ sir.”

Tony huffed, turning on his heels and glaring at the ceiling. “You’re annoying. Remind me to make you less annoying.” He did as he was told, though, and began heading towards the elevator to make his way to his workshop. He had medical stuff there in case of experiments gone wrong. No point in going all the way to the medical wing. Wait, actually, he could probably grab that coffee on the way up, too.

“And remind me to make you less stubborn, Mr. Stark.”

“Wow!” Tony said, mocking offense. “Remind me to make you less rude, too!”

Minutes later, Tony found himself waiting for his coffee to finish in the kitchen on the common floor. He didn’t really actually use his own floor anymore. The common floor was more convenient and when he _did_ actually sleep, it was on a couch or at his workstation. Maybe he could remodel his floor into something more useful. Maybe he could make an art studio for Steve. Actually, he could probably make a far better archery range for Clint. Or he could make a ballet studio for Natasha? He didn’t think she knew he knew about her love for dancing, though. He only saw brief instances of her doing plies or grand jetes or whatever-the-fuck through the cameras placed throughout the building. When he had seen her, he quickly looked away, wanting to respect her privacy. The cameras were there for security and protection only, anyway.

Unless he was too tired to make it down to the commons for movie or game nights. He liked to feel included in some way, even if the others didn’t know about that. If using the cameras and hidden microphones in the room was the way to do it, so be it.

Tony was lost in his own thoughts when the coffee maker beeped, indicating his beverage was finished. He brought himself out of his daze and took the mug (which read, “Trust me, I’m an engineer. Let’s just assume I’m never wrong.” Pepper had given it to him.) from the machine. He contemplated putting any sugar in it, but then decided, eh. He took a sip. Burnt any of his taste buds off anyway.

“Tony?”

He jumped and swiveled around, not even taking note of the hot drink splashing onto his plain shirt. It was only Steve.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- wait, what are you doing up this early?” the super-soldier asked, tilting his head. He was dressed in unfashionable sweatpants and a shirt that was too tight. For a moment, the thought passed in Tony’s head that whoever had gotten Steve his wardrobe had intentionally filled it with too-small clothes. Probably. Wait, what time was it? How early did Steve Rogers go for his morning run? People should be sleeping. Well, people other than Tony. Tony was a mess, but-

“Tony?”

Tony cut off his internal rambling and looked back at Steve, blinking himself back to reality. Steve had his head tilted and his eyebrows furrowed, and Tony just shook his head. “Ah, what? Wasn’t paying attention.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I got that. We haven’t seen you lately. How long have you been up?”

Fifty-seven hours, according to JARVIS. “Oh, just like twenty minutes. I woke up with an idea for an upgrade on Barton’s bow, thought I’d get to work,” he said, taking another sip from his searing coffee. Not liking the way Steve was looking at him, he changed the subject. “Is this really when you do your stupid run?” He glanced around the room and his eyes landed on the time on the microwave. Six-thirty. He looked at Steve with wide eyes. “You don’t get back until nine! Do you really run for _two and a half_ hours?”

Steve looked sheepish. “Wh- I mean, yeah. I’ve got the endurance for it, so why not?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re insane. I will now get to my building awesome weapons and incredible technology in general; you have fun in the cold of November.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad,” Steve objected, even as Tony left the room. He heard another chuckle as the elevator door slid shut behind him.

“To the workshop!”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, JARVIS reminded Tony to take care of his hands. The inventor rolled his eyes; he’d hoped he could get some work done before the AI started nagging him about it. It was so much harder to do things when a hand was bandaged, much less two. Looking at them, he tilted his head. He wouldn’t actually have to bandage them, actually. Probably just-

“Sir, please.”

Tony groaned as his thoughts were interrupted again. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Okay.”

He headed towards the medicine cabinet in the corner, taking out some lotion, rubbing alcohol, and a washcloth and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer beside it. (You never know when you need some dry ice or a popsicle on the job.) He poured some of the alcohol on the cloth and carefully rubbed it across the split knuckles. They stung, but he’d dealt with much worse. (Falling from a wormhole, arc reactor being torn out, the like.)

He then rubbed some lotion over his hands, hoping it would prevent them from splitting in the future. Probably not, but worth a shot, right? He then grabbed a roll of tape from nearby and strapped an ice pack to his left hand. Even if his right was a bit more beaten, it was also more valuable for working, and he needed to work on reinforcing the charge of Natasha’s widow bites. They were okay, but they hadn’t had quite the pow they needed lately. It didn’t put its victims out of commision long enough.

Taking some wires and a pair of bites that Natasha had lent him so he could repair them. He popped his knuckles (which he did regret, yes) and got to work.

“Sir, the others have asked me to let you know they will be watching movies, and they would appreciate your presence.” The AI announced hours later. Tony had finished fixing the bites and was now making a disco ball. Really, he just was bored and didn’t know what to do. Sleep was out of the question.

Tony tilted his head. “Which ones?”

“I believe, in order, they plan on watching _Gravity,_ _The Jungle Book_ , and _Sixteen Candles_.”

Tony swallowed, thinking about each of the movies. “Oh. Interesting collection. I’ll just keep working on my disco decorations then. Tell them I said have fun.”

“Sir, I can alert you when they are finished with _Gravity_ and you can enjoy the rest of the films.”

Tony appreciated the offer, he did, but he just shrugged. “No, I’m good.” He couldn’t stop thinking about the complete and utter silence when he’d entered the wormhole. Sure, he liked to hole himself up in his room like a pouty teenager, but the thought of absolutely nothing brought absolute terror to Tony’s mind. God, it was _horrible._ Here, he had JARVIS, and DUM-E, and the Avengers, even if he very rarely ever confided in them.

He trusted them, of course, but he didn’t want to put any more weight on their shoulders.

Tony’s hands paused and he thought for a minute. Actually, maybe he could try to do something about that.

The other Avengers were used to Tony’s disappearances, usually leading to the sudden appearances of new gadgets and gizmos, but they weren’t expecting to walk into the common room to see Tony sitting on the coffee table, his hair standing out in every way possible and deep bags under his eyes. He looked very, very tired.

“Shit, Stark, when was the last time you slept?” Clint immediately demanded, and Tony very visibly jumped. He looked at them with slightly droopy eyes, but once he seemed to process things, his brown eyes widened, a familiar glint in them.

“Oh! Guys, guys, I know you’re all tired from your daily workout or whatever, but I really want to show you something. Oh, wow, you guys actually smell really gross. Wait, no, I need to actually show you guys-”

“Tony.” He paused, looking ready to jump back in at any moment as he looked at Natasha. He simply raised his eyebrows in response. “When was the last time you slept?”

Tony paused for a minute, scrounging his brain. Uh, well, technically it’d been nine days, but- “Just last night, now come on, everyone sit down I’ve done a lot of shit these past few days and I think you’ll like it!”

“Tony, Nintendo is trying their best, you don’t have to prove you’re better than them all the time,” Clint put in, giving his teammate a laughing smile.

“No, it’s not another game console. But really, their best? They need to try harder,” Tony cracked, grinning. His teammates rolled their eyes, and he continued, “But this will probably take awhile because this requires a sort of lengthy explanation, so sit down and prepare yourself because I’m actually pretty proud of it. MEG was great, but she had some kinks and I got bored-”

“Dude, it was a _video game console_ that literally could respond to what you said,” Clint argued, but Tony waved him away.

“-but this, I think, will actually be of good use, and I think I’ve worked out all of the issues. The only thing left is just stuff appearance-wise but that doesn’t actually have anything to do with its function, so-”

“Tony,” Bruce interrupted, but there was mirth in his voice. “Just show us,” he said, and the others nodded, also amused to see Tony so excited.

“Right. Um-” He slowed, suddenly hesitant. Would his creation be too… personal? What if in trying to do something nice, he instead offended them? What if they didn’t trust him to make something like this? Usually he just upgraded and made their tech. Any gifts were barely noticeable, like a new custom-made toaster after Thor had accidentally broken the last one, or placing locks on all the doors to his friends’ rooms for privacy and protection. Yeah, maybe this wasn’t a good idea, maybe-

“Hey, Tony?” Tony swallowed, blinking again and looking at Bruce. Right. Better just jump in then.

“Right. So, uh, past week, I’ve been working on stuff. Uh. It’s kinda impossible to show you physically, but I have it all on thi-” He lifted his hand and swiped to bring up the holographic folder, but he was interrupted by an alarm ringing through the building.

“I hate to interrupt you, sir, but I’m afraid there has been attack that requests the Avengers’ assistance.”

Tony doesn’t know if he feels pissed off or relieved.

Everyone instantly went off in different directions, yelling orders or asking JARVIS questions, leaving Tony standing alone.

Thor stepped back into the room for a moment. “You will continue your presentation when we return, correct?” he asked, already willing Mjolnir to come to him.

Tony nodded, although he felt sort of numb. “Right, yeah. When we return,” he repeated, his voice sounding small and distant as he continued to nod.

He did not continue his presentation when they returned.

They were weird… robotic… things? They had electricity spewing out of their arms and they spun wildly. Clearly an experiment gone wrong, but _shit,_ these things were going to electrocute anything that went within a seven foot radius of them.

Steve’s shield just clunked off the robots harmlessly, barely denting them. Clint and Natasha couldn’t risk getting too close as they didn’t have an insane battle body or crazy invincibility (looking at you, Other Guy). Bullets did nothing, but luckily Clint’s bomb arrows that Tony had created a month ago were doing great.

In his suit, Tony registered the voice of the captain. “My shield isn’t doing anything. Widow, you and I are going to try to get any remaining civilians out of here. Hawkeye, Thor, you keep working on them, but keep your distance. Hulk, Stark. Bash them in as much as you can.”

“Roger that,” Tony returned, earning a necessary groan from Clint.

“Do you have to say that _every time?”_ the archer whined, and from his aerial view, Tony could see him running down the street.

“Ye-” Tony was interrupted by a yawn, and he internally cursed. “Yes, I do.”

“Was that a yawn?” Natasha asked, somehow sounding both amused and concerned at once.

“No. It was a dramatic pause. I’m a dramatic man.”

So yes, _maybe_ fighting electricity-bots that are probably guaranteed to get him electrocuted when he’s a week behind on sleep wasn’t the _best_ idea, but he couldn’t just stay behind. There were people to help and his team needed him. Probably. They usually did.

Tony was ripped out of his thoughts as his suit pulled downward suddenly, and he yelped as a robot spun directly above him.

“Sir, _please_ pay attention,” JARVIS chided, and Tony winced, raising a repulsor and firing at a robot. A hole burned through the robot and it dropped to the ground.

“You okay, Stark?” Steve asked, and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Cool as a cucumber, Cap. You take care of getting the people to safety, don’t worry about me.” He fired another few repulsor blasts, taking down two more robots.

Around him, Mjolnir boomeranged back and forth between crunching the robots to scrap metal and Thor’s hand. Barton’s arrows were nailing dozens of bots, and the Hulk was just tearing them apart, the electricity not even fazing him. Realizing he wasn’t doing as much as he could, he pulled himself back up and began firing more quickly.

He ignored the way his eyes burned and his hands still hurt, the bruising turned yellow and the right cuts having been re-opened. He ignored the way his movements were really too sluggish for being in action. He’d had worse. He was fine.

“Tony, move to your right, I’ve nearly got the perfect angle to take out four in one shot.”

How many were still left? Too many. The bright side was that there didn’t seem to be any reinforcements. The ones in the air were all that were left. Tony blasted down a few more. He fired down three that were in a row.

“Stark, move!”

They all fell to the ground in an almost domino-like fashion, except instead of a small tap on a wooden floor, there was the sound of horrific crashing on the pavement below.

“Fuck’s sake, Stark, _move!”_

Tony immediately shot upwards, letting the arrow fly and burst several of the enemies apart. Scrap metal fell to the ground in dangerous shards.

“Jesus, what is with you?” Clint demanded.

“Huh?” Tony said distractedly, glancing around. Steve and Natasha had seemed to get everyone out, the entire street evacuated. Hulk was effectively doing his smashing duty and Thor threw his hammer so it pelted through five bots in a row. Nice.

“-keep zoning out! What the hell is going on?”

“Rogers, did you just _curse?_ Is it the apocalypse?” Tony asked, avoiding the fact that he was definitely zoning out and he was being an idiotic asshole.

“ _Tony.”_

“Yeah, yeah, sor-” Another damn yawn. “I’m tryin’. Fuck, I’m _trying,_ ” he corrected, wishing his armor allowed him to slap himself in the face. He looked around and saw that the robots were actually gathered surprisingly closely. As Tony rose further into the air (ignoring the others talking to him), he saw that they were organized radially. Maybe if he could charge a strong enough blast…

“Man of Iron, where are you going?” Thor asked below, and damn, okay, he really did not require the comms unit.

“Getting a better shot,” Tony replied. Once he rose well past the height of the buildings below, he muttered, “JARVIS, you think we could get one big, big blast that could take ‘em all out?”

There was a pause.

“... Perhaps, sir, but it would use a dangerous amount of power to-”

“Yeah, yeah, Jarvie, I’ve done worse,” Tony shrugged him off, stretching his gauntlet and the light began to grow.

“Sir, I really do not recommend you do this-”

“Yeah, well, these robots are annoying and I’d like to be done.” Directing his voice to his teammates, he said, “Hey, everyone, I’m gonna need you guys to try to back away as much as you can. Quickly would be better because I’ve kinda already started charging-”

There’s a sigh of annoyance coming from Steve’s end. “Tony-”

“It’s a good idea! Just back away and let me take care of this. I’ll probably need a good… JARVIS, what radius should they steer clear of?”

The AI didn’t respond for a moment, and Tony huffed. _“JARVIS._ Be helpful.”

“... Fifty meters at the least, sir.”

“Okay, everyone keep at least sixty meters away from me. Hey, Hulk, bud, that includes you, too.”

The green rage monster grunted, but followed Tony’s orders. He threw down a robot as he went.

Looking down, Tony could see that most of them were looking between him and the robots. “Stark, what are you doing?” Natasha asked, but Tony ignored the question.

His right arm was growing warm, too much for comfort, so Tony focused. As much as he could at least. “JARVIS, prepare the body for a fully-charged blast-”

“Sir-”

“ _JARVIS.”_

“Fine. You’re insufferable.”

“You too, bud. No override,” Tony said, blinking a few times as the arm grew even hotter. He looked at the scan before his eyes. Sixty-one percent, sixty-four percent…

Tony glanced down at the ground, intending to make sure the others were safe, but suddenly his vision swam. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Sir-”

“Fine, fine, buddy, I’m fine.”

Seventy-eight percent, seventy-nine percent.

His right hand burned, and Tony wasn’t sure if it was the heat or the cuts or the bruising, but he did his best to ignore it. He tried to focus his eyes, but it was hard. He could vaguely see green flash behind a building a good ways back. Bruce was okay. Another look around. The others were okay.

Eighty-six percent, eighty-nine percent.

Tony quickly blinked, urging the charge to just hurry up. So close. Also, his hand hurt like hell and his arm felt like a furnace. His eyes fluttered and he blew air out of his nose. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

Ninety-four, ninety-seven.

“Sir, please, allow me to override. Your lack of sleep-”

Tony felt dizzy. “N-nah, Jarv, I’ve got it. I’m fine.”

He vaguely heard people shouting at him. “Tony, what are you doing?” “Shit!” “Stark, what the hell are you-”

One hundred percent.

A  bright flash and a deafening explosion.

Tony did _not_ like falling.

Tony woke up with a gasp, clawing at his chest.

“Tony! Tony-”

His hands were bandaged and he couldn’t rip the ghost feeling away. _God,_ Obi, _get away-_

A hand grasped his arm and he flinched. The hand didn’t move and he looked up and saw it was Bruce. Bruce is okay. He tried to calm down. Bruce won’t hurt him. Bruce is safe.

He only realized moments later that Bruce was whispering to him.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. We’re in the medical wing at the tower. You’re safe. A bit bruised and battered, but you’re safe. You’re okay.”

“Wh- wh- wh-” Tony stuttered, and he really didn’t know what he was trying to ask. He looked around the room to make sure no one else was there. He wanted as few people as possible to see him like this. He’d have prefered it was only his robots, but it was clear that he couldn’t avoid Bruce now.

Bruce only rubbed his hand up and down Tony’s arm, and it felt comforting. His breathing slowed to a more normal pace.

“Wh-” Tony tried again, before covering his face with his hands, forcing Bruce to let go. Frustration filled his head and _don’t cry, don’t cry, Stark men don’t cry._ Shit, he hadn’t heard that in so long. Stark men don’t cry, Stark men don’t cry, Stark men don’t-

He may not have been crying, but he was sure as hell shaking.

‘Hey, hey,” Bruce said quickly, gently pulling Tony’s hands away. Tony faintly registered that his right hand hurt. His whole arm, actually. And his legs. And his back. He had a killer headache, too.

He focused on his friend, who continued to murmur, “You’re okay. You’re safe. We just…” The man trailed off, before looking at Tony with soft eyes, a sad expression on his face. “We want to know what happened.”

Tony shrugged, wincing as his right shoulder protested. “The charge took a lot of power. Suit couldn’t handle it, I guess. Shit, I should work on that.” Tony went to sit up, but Bruce quickly pushed him back down, giving him a warning look. Tony raised an eyebrow, but fell back to the cushions.

“You are _not_ going to work in this state. You should have been more careful.” He ignored the engineer’s immediate protests. “But that’s not it, Tony, you were out of it that whole mission. What was going on?”

Tony opened his mouth and closed it, before shutting his eyes and shrugging. “Nothing, okay?”

“Bullshit.” Tony was slightly surprised by Bruce’s sharp tone, but he supposed he wouldn’t believe himself either.

Tony sighed. “I haven’t had much sleep, s’all. Really, I’m okay.”

“Tony,  you fell out of the sky. JARVIS had to pull you out of the way of a robot, and you didn’t even register the fact that Clint was yelling at you. When was the last time you slept?”

Tony cracked a small smile. “Just now?” he tried, despite expecting the glare he got in return.

Tony sighed, and noted that his ribs hurt. He hoped they were just bruised, not broken. “I don’t-” At Bruce’s warning look, Tony gave up. “Um, before the movie night.”

“When we watched Star Wars?” Bruce asked, sounding even more concerned. That had been a couple days ago. Tony hated the look on Bruce’s face, but he knew Bruce would be able to tell if he was lying.

Tony shook his head minutely, his headache pounding, and he shut his eyes.

“Tony! You mean you haven’t slept in over a week?” Bruce’s voice sounded both angry and concerned. Tony supposed both was better than just the first.

“Nine days,” he mumbled, turning his head so his cheek was smushed against the pillow. “M’sorry.”

He heard Bruce sigh and soon felt his hand again on his arm. “Tony, don’t apologize. We just want you to be okay. That’s it. We want you to be happy and healthy. Are you getting this little sleep often?”

Tony shrugged again, not bothering to open his eyes. “Dunno. I don’t really keep track, usually. JARVIS does. I’m an insomniac, though. It’s not like I could just-”

“Tony, a night or two is okay. But this is a serious risk to your health. Do you take any sort of medication?” Bruce asked, and Tony liked the warmth of his hand. It was gentle and nice.

Tony shook his head.

“Then I’m going to get you some as soon as possible. And I’m going to make sure you take them. And because JARVIS can’t physically do it, I will be dragging you out of your workshop to make sure you don’t overwork yourself.”

“I do not overwork myself-”

“Tony, what were you doing during those nine days?”

Tony had no answer. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled again, flinching just barely when Bruce let out a disappointed sigh.

Bruce’s hand stopped moving. “Tony, you were having a nightmare before.”

Tony opened his eyes, silently pleading.

Bruce sighed. “Tony-”

“Bruce, please,” Tony begged. “I’m tired. I’m really tired, and I… I don’t…”

“Tony, we all have nightmares,” Bruce said softly. “We all do. You don’t have to keep yours to yourself. You know we want to help you.” At the responding silence, Bruce tensed. “You _know_ that, don’t you?”

Tony quickly nodded, realizing his mistake. “Yeah. Yeah, of course, I do.”

“ _Tony.”_

The doctor looked at Tony with hurt eyes. Tony wanted to apologize again.

“Tony, I promise, if we had the skills you have, we would program protocols for you, we would make spontaneous gifts for you, we would do everything you do for us. We would. I’m sorry you ever thought that-”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” Tony interrupted, staring at his bandaged hands. “I’m just not good with people.”

Bruce gave Tony a smile that wouldn’t be able to convince an innocent child. “You’re Tony Stark.”

Tony shrugged, his whole body giving up as he let out a defeated sigh. “I’m not good with people,” he repeated.

He was quickly wrapped up in the most careful, gentle hug he’d ever received. (Not that there were many of those.) Tony’s whole body hurt, every muscle and bone in his body aching, but the warm hands around him felt healing. Tony breathed in a noisy breath and buried his face into his friend’s neck. He felt hot tears forming. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard quiet footsteps enter the room.

          He heard Clint ask, “Tony?” and soon there were warm bodies squeezing him from all sides. He melted into their touch, his entire body relaxing for the first time in months, years even. He didn’t know what to say.

        As they backed away, not even far enough for him to miss their warmth, Natasha smacked him in the shoulder. He winced. “фигляр,” she grumbled, and Tony didn’t even retort, just rolled his eyes.

      “What happened?” Thor asked, his voice carefully soft.

       “He was sleep-deprived,” Bruce answered from his side, before Tony could even reply. “Very, very _dangerously_ sleep-deprived.”

       All eyes snapped to him, and he rolled his own.

       “How long?” Clint asked, crossing his arms. His entire body was tense, and Tony held back the urge to wince.

      “Nine days,” he mumbled, sinking down as everyone protested. Natasha called him an idiot again and Steve sighed, sounding both frustrated and disappointed.

Always one who hated to disappoint, Tony rushed to apologize. “Look, I’m sorry, I know that-”

“You don’t need to apologize, Tony. We’re not mad, we’re just…” Steve trailed off, shaking his heads. “We’re just worried. You nearly got yourself killed. We don’t want you to keep putting yourself in danger.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce’s glare silenced him. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, causing most of them to roll their eyes.

“Just don’t do it again,” Natasha said, sitting down and tugging the chair closer to him. She placed her hand in his hair, her fingers carding through. “What have you been doing anyway? Why have you been up?”

Tony sighed. “I usually can’t sleep anyway, and I got that idea, and I didn’t want to stop working on it. I didn’t actually realize it’d been that long, not ‘til J told me.”

“The idea you wished to present to us?” Thor clarified, tilting his head.

Tony nodded stiffly. “It was… I know you all get… nightmares, and I wanted to y’know, help fix that. No one here needs more stress. It’s an earpiece that you can wear- it wouldn’t be uncomfortable, it’s just like wearing earplugs- and they won’t muffle any sound or anything, so you can still wake up if anything happens, but the point is, the earpiece would sense when you go into REM, and once it does, it will slow the signals from the amygdala and that should- hopefully- at least lessen the nightmares. Maybe not get rid of them entirely, but at least make them shorter and less often. I made a whole thing about it to explain it more in detail, how it works, but-”

“Thank you, Tony,” Clint interrupts, sitting down next to Natasha. “That’s really… That’s incredible. Thank you,” Clint said, before reaching up and squeezing Tony’s shoulder. Tony appreciated the warm touch, just as he had the hugs. Tony had assumed that Clint’s nightmares had been some of the worst, what with the whole brainwashing thing, so he’d really hoped that Clint would be on board with the idea. Tony smiled and just nodded, a silent _any time._

“But,” Clint started.

Tony immediately groaned. “What?”

“I don’t care how great your idea is, and I don’t care if it’s what will save the goddamn planet from imminent destruction. You _will_ go to bed when we tell you to, and we _will_ be telling you to every day. No more dangerous week-long stretches. Not even several-day stretches. You are going to start getting the sleep you need so you can actually take care of yourself.”

Tony glared at him, pointedly making the decision not to pout. “Who are you, my nanny?”

“I believe that is my job, sir,” JARVIS chimed in, and fuck you, JARVIS.

Tony made a face at the ceiling, despite knowing fully well that the AI did not reside in said structure.

“We’re your _friends,_ ” Clint corrects, and if Tony said he didn’t feel incredibly warm and fuzzy all over at those words, his dumb metal pants would spontaneously combust. “We want to help you, we want you safe, and if that means reminding you to eat and dragging you to bed, then we will happily do so.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed, nodding gravely, and Tony held back a small smile as everyone else nodded in accord.

“Now,” Clint said, propping his feet up obnoxiously on Tony’s bed. “You have missed two movie nights in a row, and you’re gonna be stuck in here for a while, so J, throw up some Disney. Oh, Ratatouille!”

“Fuck that. Wall-E,” Tony objected, smirking as he knew fully well this would spark a heavy debate.

“The hell? Why do you want some depressing-ass shit about the state of the world? I want to watch a ridiculous five-star health risk.”

“Uh, robots? Obviously?” Tony said, raising an eyebrow, causing Clint to throw his hands in the air and start shouting about that’s not a fucking reason, _Stark,_ let me watch a goddamn rat be a chef! Tony simply smiled to himself as Clint worked himself up into a rant, because as the others loudly placed their input, this stupid arguing bunch of dorks were his _friends._ He sounds like a fucking middle-schooler, and that’s fucking depressing, but they are, and he feels better than he has in a really long time.


End file.
